


A Jolly Good Apocalypse!

by HuchrasLens



Category: The Mechanisms (Band), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: (for Umbrella Academy at least), (season 1 so far), Dissociation, Fun And Games!, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, My first fic, Narcotics Anonymous, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overdose, Pre-Canon, The Umbrella Academy (TV) Spoilers, Vomiting, unreality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:08:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25977973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuchrasLens/pseuds/HuchrasLens
Summary: The Mechs land on Earth to learn the story leading up to the end of the world (It's an apocalypse, how could they resist?). The Toy Soldier discovers group therapy and meets Klaus in the process.Spoilers for Season 1 (The Umbrella Academy) and the Toy Soldier's backstory.
Relationships: Dolores & Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy), Klaus Hargreeves & The Toy Soldier (The Mechanisms), Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & The Toy Soldier (The Mechanisms)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 70





	1. Best. Meeting. Ever!

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has lowkey taken over my brain for the past week and I'm super excited to finally have something presentable to post! 
> 
> CW:  
> \- attempted discussions of addiction  
> \- discussion of drug use and its effects
> 
> The rating is for language mainly.

“Hello, I’m an addict, and my name is Jeremy. Welcome to Narcotics Anonymous! We’re going to open this meeting with a moment of silence for the addict who still suffers...”

Klaus lowered his head in tandem with the rest of the small auditorium and strongly considered taking a nap. Last time the chair had noticed and rudely refused to sign his attendance sheet. Something about the importance of active engagement in the program. He was wearing sunglasses today, though, so maybe…?

“Is there anyone here attending their first NA meeting, or joining us at this location for the first time? If so, WELCOME! _You_ are the most important people here!”

Oops, he’d already missed the prayer. Oh well. Maybe he’d care next time. He shifted back in his seat, stretching his legs under the empty chair in front of him and finally raising his head. Maybe he could convince Ben to do something entertaining? Klaus scanned the room and… oh, perfect. Ben had never been the invading-personal-space-type when he was alive—and he was still ridiculously careful about respecting personal boundaries for someone intangible—but now he was hovering over someone three rows up, his nose scrunched in confusion _at most_ an inch away from their cheek. This was fantastic! Klaus could tease him so much about this later! And the face Ben was making! Absolute comedy gold. Klaus reclined further in his seat and tried to focus on keeping his laughter quiet.

“I Say, How Do You Do!”

Klaus nearly fell out of his chair and Ben scrambled back. It almost looked like the stranger was _talking to Ben_. That was impossible, though; Ben was still very dead, and as a result, still very invisible to everyone but Klaus. It was probably just a trick of his imagination, honestly. It did that sometimes, especially when his breakfast had consisted of pills instead of actual food. Ben had already started inching his way closer again to investigate, somehow looking more confused than before. This would make for a great conversation when he got food later. Maybe they should get pancakes? Or maybe waffles would be better—

“And we’ve got a volunteer! I don’t recognize you from past weeks, so I’m guessing you’re new? It’s so great that you’re here, welcome! Can you start off with an introduction for us?”

So they couldn’t see Ben. No matter how much they looked like they were staring at him, they were addressing Jeffery or whoever, the chair of the meeting, who was standing kind of in Ben’s direction. That was definitely it.

“I Am The Toy Soldier! I’m Just Happy To Be Included!”

What the fuck? That was definitely not the usual format. The person stood at attention for their introduction and _saluted._ Klaus could only see their back but it looked like they were wearing a black and red tuxedo, which seemed like a lot of effort for NA—not that he was judging.

“Right, um. That’s great! We’re happy to have you here! But, uh, generally we like to do the introductions with your name and then why you’re here. Want to give it another go?”

“I’m The Toy Soldier And I’m Here Because My Friend Threw Me Out The Airlock!”

“I know it certainly feels that way when loved ones can’t handle addiction, and I’m very proud of you for being here today to seek help. If you don’t mind, could you save the rest of your share for after your introduction? It should probably go something like ‘my name is,’ and then you say your name, and then ‘I’m an addict,’ or something similar. Step one can be hard, but you can do it! So if you could just introduce yourself...”

“I Already Did My Introduction, Old Chap! Would You Like Me To Say It Again?”

James paused, his mouth opening and closing a few times with no sound coming out. He reminded Klaus a bit of a fish.

This was the best NA meeting he’d ever been to.

“I—uh—okay, okay! So, uh, Toy Soldier, that’s, um—that’s what you’d like to use for a name?”

“I Am The Toy Soldier!”

“Alright we—we can go with that, for now, I guess? So, um, t-Toy Soldier, uh, could you tell us why you’re here today?”

“My Dear Old Friend Jonny Threw Me Out Of The Airlock As We Were Landing! I Got Lost For A Few Decades And Saw A Sign And Now I Am Here! I Say, It Has Been A Spiffing Time So Far!”

“I mean—okay? I was definitely looking for something more related to addiction, but, um, I guess we’ll take that? For now?” Jackson mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “so much therapy” and “not paid for this.” Klaus couldn’t blame him, of course, but damn was his reaction entertaining.

“Would you like to, um, would you like to start your share then?”

“Oh, Jolly Good Old Chap! It’s Time For A Show!”

With a sound like spilled Lincoln Logs, they clapped their hands together and pulled from seemingly nowhere a…guitar-looking thing? A mando— mandoloria—nope too many syllables—a mandolin? That sounded right. (He would double check with Ben later.) Maybe they’d been hiding it under their seat but _wow_ was that a fast set-up time. And Klaus really thought instruments like those need a lot of tuning—

They raised the mandolin and started to sing.

Their song was beautiful—definitely beautiful—but _weird._ It started off normally enough, living with someone who might’ve been their mom and going to find a job once she died, but then they started talking about killing an angel and fighting with a clone army. It sounded to Klaus like they’d maybe watched Star Wars stoned one too many times, but he really wasn’t in a position to judge anyone’s backstory. Hell, most people would have him institutionalized for telling them he could see ghosts; maybe this person _had_ done all that. He definitely believed the part about joining a band. The stranger, whoever they actually were, was putting on _a show_.

They played the chorus one last time, hitting the last chord with a little flourish, and bowed to the room. Klaus was not alone in rising to their feet clapping. Jordan, on the other hand, was sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. His dismissal was barely audible through the muffling of his arms and the thunderous applause.

“Meeting adjourned for today, hope to see you all next time, please help me clean up and then leave now.” The chair looked like he needed a minute. He’d even skipped the end notes! It had been quite a good song, so Klaus supposed needing some time to let it sink in was understandable.

“Thank You! You Have Been A Wonderful Audience!”

The mandolin disappeared, and the other attendees began gathering the chairs and chatting amongst themselves, so Klaus assumed it was a good time to introduce himself. He hopped over the rows in front of him, almost falling on his face as he remembered the chairs were not, in fact, attached to the floor. He managed to not knock the strange performer over as he righted himself and extended his hand.

“Hello there, I’m Klaus, he/him pronouns if you wouldn’t mind. Lovely performance you put on, Jesse over there looks like it really, uh, blew his mind, if you know what I mean!” He let out a short laugh which grew as he saw Ben smacking his forehead on the other side of them. They reached out and took his hand with theirs. The consistency felt…wrong, like Klaus was holding a bundle of sticks instead of shaking someone’s hand, but he brushed it off as a residual effect of whatever he’d taken that morning.

“Hello! I Am The Toy Soldier! Pronouns Exist! It’s Very Nice To Meet You, Good Sir!”

Klaus got a look at their face for the first time and saw that it too seemed more wooden than skin. Their smile stretched wider than any human’s should have been able to and didn’t seem to move as they spoke. The effect was a bit creepy, but sometimes skin lookslike that for a bit when you buy off the street. They definitely got major points for the drawn-on mustache though. That plus the outfit, a three piece red and black tuxedo with gold buttons and a matching hat, was enough for Klaus to want to buy them congratulatory waffles, even if they hadn’t completely derailed the meeting with their singing and mandolin-ing.

“Does they/them work?” It was quite rude to misgender potential new friends, so Klaus wanted to make sure he got it right.

“Sure!” Their face didn’t change as they nodded once.

“Cool! That was one helluva performance you just put on, and the disappearing mandolin?” Klaus brought his fingers to his lips in an exaggerated chef’s kiss. “Fantastic! Say, you wouldn’t happen to be hungry right now? Because I could definitely go for some waffles and I know a good place around here...”

Klaus started walking towards the exit (he’d do his service later and Jared was in no shape to be signing attendance forms) and the Toy Soldier followed.

“I Can’t Eat Food, But I’m Happy To Be Included!”

“I feel like I should be concerned, but I’ll save that for after waffles.” Klaus held open the door for his new acquaintance. “Hey, can I call you TS?”

“All My Friends Do, So Sure! I’ve Never Pretended To Eat Waffles Before!”

Look at that, he’d made a new friend! Ben must be so proud…

“Amazing, then let’s introduce you to some fucking waffles, TS!”


	2. Names, Pancakes, And Teeth!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus checks out of rehab and hangs out with TS. Bonding time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a decent bit longer than the last one oops.
> 
> CW:  
> \- discussion of drug use and its effects (this is probably going to apply to the whole work honestly)  
> \- anxiety  
> \- very very brief reference to the effects Klaus's childhood  
> \- vomiting (not graphic)

Klaus opened his eyes slowly against bright florescent lights.

“Morning Klaus. Happy day 30,” Ben said from his place at the end of Klaus’s bunk, not looking up from his book. One of these days, Klaus was going to ask where he got those. Was there some sort of ghost library? No, he was getting distracted, today was checkout day! It was time to say bye to the people he knew here and pick up his well-earned sobriety chip. A whole month of pretending to be sober…it took a lot out of a guy! He deserved some celebratory pancakes.

He swung down off the bed and started making his way to the exit, grinning. A few familiar faces called out encouragement and congratulations as he passed their bunks, and he responded with an over-exaggerated bow once he reached the front door. As he rose, he put on his best showman voice to address the rows of bunks.

“Thank you, thank you! You’ve all been wonderful, and I look forward to seeing or not seeing you—you know who you are,” Klaus winked at the room. “—next time! Farewell!” He finished with one final wave and left for the front desk. He hadn’t seen TS yet today, but Johnson had been on desk duty and would probably know where they were. It’d been a few years (maybe? Ben had probably been counting) since TS had nearly given the volunteer an aneurysm at an NA meeting, and they were a hard figure to forget. Especially when they kept popping up at rehabilitation centers with Klaus and singing their way through group.

“Hello, Jeremiah! Lovely day today, isn’t it?”

The person behind the desk sighed, and Klaus held back a giggle. This guy really needed to find better paid jobs; he looked so tired all the time. It was almost certainly Klaus’s doing, at least mostly, but it wasn’t his fault that Joshua was so easy to antagonize! He really should work somewhere less full of—

“Hi Klaus. You checking out?” The volunteer started shifting papers around and fiddling with the small bucket of sobriety chips.

“Yep!” Klaus leaned over the ledge of the window separating the desk from the hallway before adding, “Say, you haven’t happened to have seen TS around today, have you? I know they showed up last week and wanted to say bye.”

“TS? Oh—you mean t-Toy Soldier. Them. Yes, uh, let me see…I can tell you what hall they were assigned to? I haven’t seen them today, but maybe they’ll be there?” He pulled a binder from under the table and began flipping through the pages. Jesus, was that really how they stored hall assignments? Maybe it wasn’t all Klaus’s fault that Justin always seemed exhausted—this system seemed terrible. It was the 21st century for g-d’s sake! Get that shit digitized!

“Um, Klaus?” He looked up from the binder. “They’re not in here. Like, at all. Are you sure you saw them this week?”

“Huh, that’s odd…could’ve sworn I did, but oh well. I’ll catch them next ti—later, I guess. Thanks anyways.” Well, that sucked. Klaus didn’t think he’d been nearly high enough to hallucinate full people, but those things could be hard to judge sometimes.

“No problem, Klaus. Now if you’ll just sign these…”

Klaus took the clipboard with a sigh of his own. TS had to be registered if they were here, right? And they’d definitely been at one of the group things; he remembered the song they’d sung! They’d ranted together about Grimms’ Fairy Tales in the common space afterwards! Someone definitely should’ve told him if he’d been talking to thin air again, so…what? He’d have to ask Ben if he’d seen TS once they were out of here.

Klaus handed the paperwork back over the ledge and was rewarded with his sobriety chip.

“See you soon, Klaus.”

“Thanks, Julien. See you around!”

Klaus turned to leave, and Ben pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on, tucking his book into his jacket. As they reached the doors, he heard a noise behind him.

“And uh, Klaus? My name’s Jeremy.”

Oh. Whoops.

“Right! Sorry about that!” He replied with an airy chuckle, “Names, you know?” Klaus waved one final time and pushed through the door into the street.

“Very smooth,” Ben laughed.

“Shut _up,_ Ben! It’s names! They _are_ hard, how was I supposed to remember what his was?”

“Klaus. My dearest brother. He was wearing a nametag.”

“…it was hard to see through the window to the desk?”

“He has introduced himself at the beginning of every activity he leads. For all of the three years that you’ve known him.” So it _had_ been years, Klaus was right earlier! This was why it’s good to keep a sober dead brother around.

“I Agree With You, Klaus! Names Can Be Very Hard Sometimes!”

Klaus and Ben both jumped as a figure appeared in front of them.

“TS! I was looking for you to say bye…I thought you weren’t checking out for another couple of weeks?”

“Check Out? Why Would I Need To Check Out?” Their deadpan was phenomenal. Not only did they not blink, their entire face remained frozen in their usual smile as they spoke. Ten out of ten delivery. (Should he be concerned that their face never moved? Their skin still looked like wood, no matter how close to sober Klaus got, and he’d decided ages ago that it was probably a skin condition. Their lack of motion might be connected? It’d probably be rude to mention it.)

“Why would you—TS, you are so weird, I’m so glad we’re friends.” As Klaus laughed, his stomach made a _very_ loud complaint. “Oops. The old tummy is a’grumblin’, it is time to get some food. Want to come with, TS?”

“You Know I Still Don’t Eat, Old Chum! But I’d Be Delighted To Tag Along!”

Klaus nodded, and they continued down the street. The diner they were heading towards was old—not old enough to be considered retro, g-d no, just old—run-down, and, most importantly, cheap as hell. Klaus mentally crossed his fingers and prayed to several deities he didn’t believe in that it was Saturday between ten and two when the five-dollar buffet was open. He craned his neck to scan for any signs on the door as the restaurant came into view and grinned. ‘BUFFET OPEN NOW,’ in bolded red lettering, right on the front window. G-d, what a beautiful sight.

“Here we are, TS! Let’s go grab a table, then we can raid the buffet!” Klaus held open the door for TS, and they made their way over to a booth situated next to the grimy window. He was going to get so much food! Pancakes and waffles and maybe some eggs and—oh no. Klaus shoved his hands into his coat pockets and sighed. Of course he didn’t have more than a few coins, it wasn’t like he’d made any money over the last month. He’d even invited TS to come with him, and it was rude to invite someone and then make them pay! They’d been with him for at least the past week and he’d never even _heard_ them mention a job and oh g-d what if _they_ didn’t have any money either—

“It was a nice try. I applaud your choice to eat breakfast instead of consuming other, less healthy things, even if you don’t have enough money to actually get anything,” Ben commented from where he’d settled into the booth.

“Shut up! I’m sure I’ve got _some_ cash, _somewhere_ in this stupid! Coat!” Klaus started checking his other pockets—surely he had _something_ he could pay with, hadn’t he had money a month ago? He only needed five dollars…

“I’m Not Sure I Can Be Any Quieter, But I Can Try! I’m Sorry For Being Too Loud In The First Place!” TS chimed in, sounding confused and a bit hurt. Their facial expression was the same as always but their body language clearly shifted. Oh fuck, he’d made TS sad, he was such an _idiot_ , g-d he needed to be better than this. His friend was faster with an apology than anyone Klaus had ever met, and it reminded Klaus a little too much of…things. Stuff he’d rather not think of. TS was his friend, g-ddammit, they shouldn’t feel like they need to apologize when they hadn’t done anything wrong!

“Oh no, TS! I—I wasn’t talking to you, you don’t need to shut up at all!” Klaus scrambled for an explanation before deciding that, fuck it, he was going to tell TS the truth. It wasn’t like they hadn’t said weirder things, so it’d probably be fine? Plus, he wasn’t sure he could come up with anything else that was actually convincing.

“I was, um, talking to my brother? My, uh…my dead brother, Ben. He’s currently sitting over there,” he gestured at Ben next to him in the booth, “and, um, he was saying something annoying. And unhelpful.”

“Klaus…” Ben cautioned, sitting up. TS shifted again, this time conveying strong curiosity. Klaus averted his eyes. The ceiling was very nice to look at right now. Great color scheme and use of patterns. The ketchup stain to his right was truly easy on the eyes. Especially now that he was getting to the really crazy-sounding part.

“I…well, I can see ghosts? Yeah. Have been able to my whole life. And he’s a very, very stubborn ghost, so he’s usually just. Here. Around. Wherever I am, I mean.” He couldn’t judge TS’s reaction and appreciate the ceiling at the same time. Fuck. Anxiety won out, and he looked down to TS’s face. Still a frozen smile; that was probably a good sign, right?

“I don’t usually bring it up in group or anything because, well, it sounds pretty, y’know,” he twirled a finger by his ear with a nervous laugh, “ _cuckoo_ , and all, but I’m not making it up, and I wouldn’t tell you to shut up. You’re not annoying like Ben is.”

“I Say, That Sounds Like A Lovely Game! Can I Play Too?” Their posture straightened, and they looked excited now.

“It’s not—uh, I’m not sure if you can? Physically, I mean. You’re welcome to try, though? It’d certainly be nice to have company…Ben doesn’t really count.” Klaus chuckled a bit, and Ben rolled his eyes.

“I’ll Try My Best!” TS turned to Ben again and saluted. “Good Day! I Am The Toy Soldier, How Do You Do?”

“What are you hoping to do, Klaus? There’s no way they can see me.” Ben eyed TS cautiously despite his skepticism. It _should_ be impossible for them to see him.

“Come on, Ben, say hi!” TS _had_ been weirdly good at not walking through Ben in the years Klaus had known them, and there was that time at their very first NA meeting where they seemed to talk to him directly. It was definitely impossible, but still…

“G-d, fine I’ll try it,” Ben sighed. “The things you convince me to do…Hello, TS, it’s nice to meet you, if you can actually hear me.”

“It’s Nice To Meet You Too!” TS lowered their hand and turned to Klaus proudly, “I Am Good At Playing Games!”

Klaus had no idea how to interpret that. They answered Ben, but they easily could have just said what they would normally say to be polite. Or just guessed. His thoughts were cut off by another loud noise from his stomach.

“Right! Now that we’ve done that and you know I wasn’t being mean—to you, at least—I really ought to tell you that I appear to be out of money.” Klaus turned out a few of his pockets for emphasis. He leaned in and lowered his voice as he added, “What’s your opinion on dining and dashing?”

“My Other Friends Say That Crime Is Fun! There Are Very Few Crimes I Have Not Committed!” Klaus started to laugh before TS mirrored Klaus’s posture conspiratorially. “But If You Don’t Want To Be Athletic Today, I Can Also Pay For Our Food!”

They reached into their coat and pulled out a handful of irregular gold pieces, pouring them onto the table before Klaus and Ben. They stared at the pile for a solid minute before Klaus broke the silence.

“TS—where—what?!” The shining pieces started to resolve themselves into familiar shapes before Klaus’s eyes. “Are those—are those _teeth_? Have you been carrying around fucking _golden teeth_ in your pocket this entire time?”

“I Like Teeth, Old Bean!”

“Oh my g-d. Is that real gold too? Are those _real_ golden teeth? Or wait—did those teeth come from actual people? Are those _gilded_ _real-people teeth_?”

“They Are Gold! I Didn’t Want To Waste Any Organic Teeth On Currency, Of Course! Ashes Had Extra Gold Laying Around, ‘For Tax Purposes,’ They Said! They Let Me Have Some As Long As I Put Some Organic Teeth In Tim’s Tea!”

“TS, I mean this as nicely as it can be taken, but what. The. Fuck. Your friends just had a bunch of gold lying around? And—teeth? In tea?” Klaus couldn’t imagine. Would the teeth dissolve? Or were you supposed to chew on them? That sounded unpleasant—and so crunchy! He made a mental note to specifically request no teeth if TS ever offered to make him tea.

“Yes! My Friends Are Great! I Do Miss Them, But They Usually Show Up At Some Point!” TS’s posture wilted a bit, and Klaus cursed himself mentally. They probably didn’t want to talk about the friends who’d kicked them out. Even if it had been a few years, Klaus was pretty sure they had as much of a permanent home as he did, so that was almost certainly a sore spot. Time for a topic change.

“So, uh, TS. Do you want to see if they’ll take the teeth in exchange for stuff from the buffet?” It wasn’t the most subtle, but he _was_ hungry. A bit of multitasking wouldn’t hurt.

“Yes, Let’s! Tally Ho! It’s Off To The Buffet We Go!” Klaus mirrored TS’s laugh and they rose from the booth to gather their food.

They chatted as they ate, exchanging stories about the different people they’d talked to at the clinic. Klaus told TS about poor Jonas’s struggles with paperwork at the front desk, and they replied with their ideas about the planet’s future (“Just Wait Until You Colonize The Moon! And Then Blow It Up With A Cannon! I Say, That Was A Lovely War!”).

After a few hours, Klaus had eaten as many pancakes as he could physically fit in his stomach, and TS had cleared off ten plates of their own single-handedly (without Klaus ever seeing them take a bite. Where was the food going? Was there just a pile on their side of the booth? When he asked, all they would tell him was that they were “Very Good At Pretending!” whatever that meant.). They walked up to the counter to pay, but according to the annoyed-looking attendant, there was a significant problem in their original plan.

The diner didn’t accept gold teeth.

“Well, That’s Certainly Thrown A Spanner In The Works! Cheerio!” TS commented brightly. Klaus and TS shared a grin before turning and bolting out of the diner.

Five minutes and several blocks later Klaus was gasping for air in an alleyway with TS standing over him, straightening their suit.

“TS… how…? S’lotta running… breathing…?” Klaus might’ve eaten too many pancakes, shit. He felt his stomach turn and doubled over with a groan.

“I Could Pretend To Be Out Of Breath, If You’d Like!” They immediately hunched their back, grabbing their sides. They made a wheezing noise that sounded almost like bagpipes, dramatically raising and lowering their shoulders in time with their ‘gasps’. Klaus started cackling before he could stop himself and immediately fell into the nearest wall as his vision started going black from lack of oxygen.

“G-d no—can’t laugh—please—too funny—gonna puke!” He really didn’t want to throw up right now. The drugs had worn off just enough for him to be self-conscious, and it’d waste the nutrients from the pancakes anyways. Thankfully, TS stopped their pretending, and after a few minutes Klaus regained his breath enough to form full sentences.

“That was the most hilarious thing I have ever seen in my life. Thank you.” He was still laughing, but it was more controllable now. “And back at the diner too! Fucking high quality. Did you actually tell the attendant ‘cheerio?’”

“That I Did!” TS began laughing too.

“I didn’t know people actually _said_ that. How are you so British? Maybe more British than the Brits! What the fuck?”

“How can they be ‘more British than the Brits’ if they’re actually from Britain?” Ben commented, smiling.

“Fuck if I know, Ben, but I stand by my earlier statement! They’re really fucking British—they even said ‘cheerio!’”

“I Could Pretend To Be Less British, If You’re Interested! I Have A Friend From New Texas! And We Visited Fort Galfridean Once; They Sounded Quite Like The American South!” Klaus looked up, confused.

“Sorry, ‘new Texas?’”

“Yes! He Doesn’t Have Much Of The Accent From There Anymore, So I’ll Show You The Fort Galfridean One Instead! It’s From One Of Our Albums!” They paused, adjusting their coat for a second before half-bending their knees and hunching their back. They looked Klaus dead in the eyes as their hand hovered over their side threateningly, ready to draw… something at any moment. When they spoke again, their normally light, cheery English articulation was covered by a heavy, rolling accent.

“Any sumbitch can pull this tin star from my stone cold hands, makes ‘em rightwise sheriff o’ this here town,” they growled. Then they straightened up and dusted themself off. “That Was Lavinia Stone’s Line! Did You Like It, Old Chap?”

Klaus and Ben doubled over again, wiping tears of laughter off their faces and wheezing.

“That was—that was absolutely fantastic! I can’t believe—” Klaus abruptly turned to the side and vomited. Oh well. He could think of a lot of worse ways to lose his breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't overstate how encouraging the response to the first chapter was! Every time I get a notification email for a comment or kudos, I get so much serotonin. It's wild... so, thanks! I'm glad people are liking this.
> 
> I partially got the idea of teeth as currency from No Violins Allowed by Alienea. (gotta cite those sources...)
> 
> As with the last chapter, please let me know if I missed any tags or CW's. Huge thanks again to Spiritfire24 for betaing/proofreading!


	3. Deep Breaths, Old Chum!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry
> 
> (please pay extra attention to the content warnings)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW:  
> \- overdose  
> \- heavy dissociation/unreality  
> \- heavy paranoia  
> \- amnesia  
> \- panic  
> \- hospitals/ambulance  
> \- discussions of death  
> \- near death experience  
> \- Klaus's general attitude towards drug use

“Three. Two. One. CLEAR!” Twin paddles lowered onto Klaus’s chest, and he convulsed before bolting upright with a cheer.

“WOO! That was a good one, Jack, they trained you well!” He pulled off his breathing mask with one shaking hand and raised his other. “Come on, up top!”

James reluctantly gave Klaus a high five before leaning back against the wall of the ambulance with a sigh. Klaus was so happy for him! The former volunteer had apparently finished his EMT certification and no longer had to work at under-funded rehab centers. He still looked very tired, which was probably Klaus’s fault again. But wow! A job—and a consistent one too! Good for him! Klaus couldn’t remember…he actually couldn’t remember much of anything at the moment. The adrenaline from not dying must be wearing off…g-d his head hurt. And his chest. And his lungs and his arms and his legs and his fingers and his toes an—yikes. Maybe he wasn’t fully safe on the dying front.

“Jolly Good! You’re Still Alive!”

Klaus jumped, wincing at the volume. Why didn’t they add better soundproofing to these things? Or maybe it was the type where no one outside could hear in? Like the mirrors that reflected handcuffed hands and uniformed disgust, but for noises…one-way soundproofing, but he was _behind_ the glass now. He could hear things in here, but no one could hear him in…not here. Everything was metallic and plastic and hit against each other with clangs and bangs as the room shifted and jumped under him. That wasn’t right…rooms were definitely not supposed to shake like this.

“Could you lower your volume, TS? Klaus still has…”

The voices were drowned out because now his breathing was getting louder and louder and louderandlouderandlouder. Did he hear TS? They couldn’t be here, they weren’t a…whatever it was, like Ja-Je—who? J—? Them, that person. They must be doing…something? With TS…about TS…to TS? Maybe TS _was_ here because they’d died and now they were a ghost and oh g-d they were here for him they were going to yell at him just like the rest of the dead; he needed to get to a dealer _now_ if he could see ghosts that weren’t—where was Ben? Shouldn’t he be trying to talk him out of—wait. If that person was doing something with, about, _to_ TS—they had to _know_ that TS was d—shit, now it made sense! They targeted TS to get to _him_! Oh g-d this was all his fault why hadn’t he been better, more competent, he was such a disappointment and wasn’t he always, wasn’t it such a bold assumption to think there had ever been any real potential to begin with and why would they be trying to get to him he wasn’t important but theykilledTStheyweregoingtokillhimtoohewasgoingtodiejustlikehisfriendwhowasdeadhefailedthemsohewasgoingtodiejustlikehisfriendhewasgoingtodiehewasgoingtodi—

He felt something solid settle on top of his shoulder as a hand placed a plastic apparatus over his mouth and nose. He couldn’t see—how long hadn’t he been able to see? Any minute now they would come for him, screaming just like they had last time he was locked in—were they trying to make him breathe in some kind of poison? They wanted him to join them this time, that must be it. His whole body pulsed and shook. Was it starting? He glared at where he thought the person—the _murderer—_ was sitting.

“Leave me alone, you fucker! H-how could you? TS was _good_ …and you just…You—you can’t get me too! I-I won’t join you!”

His limbs felt like sandbags, and the door was _right there,_ (oh look at that, his vision was starting to come back) if he could only convince himself to _move._ This room was so g-ddamn _small_ and _hot_ and his back was dripping and his cheeks were wet and his palms were sticking to whatever was underneath them and there was something heavy on his shoulder and it all _had to be connected,_ somehow.

“Deep Breaths, Old Chum, It’ll Be Alright! We’re Almost At The Hospital, And They’ll Get You Patched Up In A Jiffy!”

He turned his head to see what was now patting him with a groan. Breathing was getting easier, for some reason, but the same could not be said of movement. It was _hard_. Like whatever was touching him. Despite feeling like solid wood, the thing on his shoulder looked like a hand. Which was attached to an arm which was attached to…the blurry outline of a smiling figure wearing an EMT uniform sitting in the corner. That cheery CPR dummy with arms certainly looked familiar. He blinked, hard, and looked again.

“TS? What…you’re not dead. Are you?”

“Goodness Gracious Me, You Really Are Under The Weather! Must Be That Pesky Human Mortality Again!”

The person in front of Klaus (the…murderer? They looked more exhausted than dangerous, but maybe it was a ruse?) sighed and turned to address TS. ‘Pesky human mortality…?’ He focused on the weight on his shoulder. If they could touch him then…they must be…not dead? Or maybe he was getting more dead...

“TS, please. Don’t—don’t bring up mortality right now. Klaus, we’re just trying to get you to the hospital. Hang in there, okay?”

The hospital? Heh. ‘A murderer walks into a hospital…’

TS saluted with the hand that wasn’t rubbing his shoulder. The hand on Klaus’ should—Klaus. Right, that was him. Names, back at it again…

“Understood! No Bringing Up Mortality Right Now! Thanks For The Tip, J—!”

Wow. If that was his actual name, it was no wonder Klaus (Klaus, _Klaus_ , that was him! He was Klaus!) never used it. Half of the sounds TS made probably didn’t even exist in human language. The person in front of Klaus sighed again, massaging his temples. There was a weight on his shoulder, almost like a mini blanket, and wasn’t that fun? An itty-bitty small little weighted blanket just chilling—wait. Half of the sounds TS made probably didn’t even exist in human language. What the fuck?

“Hold on…what…? Those sounds were not…human.”

“Nope! I Am Not Human, Old Bean, I Am A Wooden Toy! So I Can Say The Thirty-Second Most Common J-Name From The Planet—” they made more noises, “—In The Year Fifty-Two For Our Game!”

Klaus opened his mouth to question that when the room rolled to a stop. Not a room, an ambulance. Something was on his shoulder, and the ambulance had stopped, which meant that…?

“Right, nope. We are _not_ getting into that conversation right now. TS, can you help Klaus lay down? We’re going to get you in to see an actual doctor now, okay Klaus?”

The thing (hand?) on his shoulder shifted, so that it was supporting his weight as he was gently lowered down onto the stretcher. The wall in front of him opened to a sterile stranger in a uniform. He couldn’t see their face (nothumannothumannothuman) as they reached for him.

“Waitwaitwait hold on, wha—?”

“Don’t Worry, Klaus! You Heard Our Friend! It Is Time To See An _Actual_ Doctor Now!”

“An ‘actual’ doctor? _That is not reas_ _suring_ — _where_ _are you taking me_? _I don’t want to go to plane_ _t_ — _plane_ _t something in the year fifty-two!_ ”

He was being wheeled into a building now, and more and more people in scrubs were crowding between him and his friend. They weren’t human? (Why was there emphasis on “ _actual_ doctor?”) Was his friend not an _actual_ human? (Were they trying to kill him too?) Planet what? The year fifty-two? What did that even mean? (Oh g-d he was going to die.) He had to figure it out. (He had to get out.)

He tried to sit up, only to be pushed down by several nitrile-covered appendages. Oh g-d he couldn’t get up he couldn’t leave there was nothing on his shoulder the doctor wasn’t real the hospital wasn’t real there were too many things on his shoulders his chest his arms his legs it was all a trap his friend was leaving him to these strangers and _he was going to die—_

“It’ll Be Okay, Klaus! You’re Just Going To See A Doctor! I’ll Come Check On You In A Bit! Ta Ta, For Now!”

He put all his energy into one last surge upwards and caught a glimpse of a figure waving at him from the waiting room. He had just enough time to wonder how such a smiley mannequin could look so sad before the flurry of nurses rolled him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone's doing okay after that. The next chapter is probably also going to be a little on the heavier side, but after that I promise it'll return to comedy! And it's catching up with the start of season 1, which is fun (I'm excited). Thanks again to Spiritfire24, I wouldn't be able to finish these without them! Take care of yourselves!
> 
> (Also, I have a tumblr, @martian-art13. I don't post a ton, but you're welcome to stop by and say hi if you want!)


	4. Doctor's Orders!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus checks out of the hospital and plays a game with TS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically Klaus and TS dealing with the fallout from the last chapter.
> 
> CW:  
> \- Klaus's early season 1/pre-season 1 relationship with drugs (re: wanting to get high)  
> \- descriptions of dead people (not super graphic)  
> \- discussions of drug use  
> \- discussions of overdose  
> \- vague withdrawal symptoms  
> \- accidental compulsion (TS's orders thing)

TS held open the hospital’s door for Klaus, standing at attention. He probably could have done it himself, but TS had really been going out of their way to help him since he’d been admitted, and he had to save his objections for the big things. Like showering. Or using the toilet.

“Thanks, TS.”

They didn’t close the door until both Klaus and Ben had stepped out from the relative quiet of the hospital into a sensory hell (— _metallic and plastic and hit against each other with clangs and bangs as the room_ —). Why did they put the ambulance entrance right next to the…well. Maybe it made sense to put the ambulance bay next to the ER entrance, but Klaus did _not_ appreciate the bright lights and g-dawful sirens right now. His sunglasses were really letting him down.

“Any Time, Old Chap! Say, I Just Might Know A Place We Can Kip While You Get Back Into Fighting Shape!”

TS put their hand on his back (— _supporting his weight as he was gently lowered down onto the_ —), and they start making their way past the ambulances. As they passed the last vehicle, one conspicuously lacking in the pulsing red and blue flashes from its roof, a scream tore through the air. Klaus jumped, and TS stopped walking, turning towards him in concern.

“Klaus! Is Something Wrong?”

“You—you didn’t hear that?” Oh fuck.

Ben let out a hollow laugh.

“Is your system finally starting to clear up? I’m surprised it took this long.”

Smug bastard.

“Shut up, Ben! It’s a hospital, plenty of people could be…screaming loudly, without anyone reacting—it’s possible!”

“I Did Not Hear Any Screaming! Let’s Find You Somewhere To Have A Nice Lie-Down!”

Klaus groaned. He didn’t need a lie-down, he needed something to slow his inevitable march towards sobriety! He was starting to doubt that TS would let him. He’d never actually heard them talk about their addiction (“— _I Am Not Human, Old Bean, I Am A Wooden Toy!_ —”), but they spent as much of their time in rehabs and NA meetings as Klaus did, so he’d hoped that they might be…sympathetic.

The back of the ambulance closest to them opened, and an EMT climbed out, immediately slumping against the side of the ambulance and pressing the heel of their hand to their forehead.

“I Say! It’s Our Good Friend J—! Hello J—!”

The EMT looked up at TS’s odd combination of sounds ( _“_ — _The Thirty-Second Most Common J-Name From The Planet_ — _”_ ), and Klaus immediately recognized him.

“TS, hey. Oh, and—”

Klaus heard a sound from within the ambulance.

“ _Klaaaaauuuuuuuuuuus_!”

What was the probability that it was just someone he’d met at the clinics, trying to greet him coherently despite being very very stoned? It was possible, right?

“—discharged already?”

“Dischar—oh. Yeah, I’m, uh, free once more.”

“We’re Taking Klaus To Get Rest! He’s—”

Something was moving in the ambulance. Klaus was sure of it. Shouldn’t J—fuck it, he was too tired to try to find a J-name he hadn’t used already. Anyways, the guy had saved his life; the least Klaus could do was stop ‘forgetting’ his name—Jeremy be attending to whoever’s in there? Unless—nope. It hadn’t been long enough for that, yet. It couldn’t have been.

“—glad you’re there for him—"

“ _Klauuuuus! Help me!_ ”

“—starting already, Klaus, you know it is. You’re almost sober and—”

“ _Please! Please, you have to help me! Klaus,_ please _!”_

Oh g-d. He craned his neck to see inside the ambulance and—fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. Ben was right, stupid dead brother, he too close to sober for comfort, and _of course_ a body bag didn’t need urgent care. The EMT couldn’t see the crying, bleeding, damaged figure standing next to the stretcher, begging Klaus for help he couldn’t give. They were at a distance for now, but if they were here then more would be coming soon, and he had to escape he had to get—

“Klaus, are you doing okay?”

“Huh? T-there’s a—there’s a d-dead person in your ambulance. Fuck. I can—I can see the dead person in your ambulance.”

The person in the ambulance shifted forwards, the remnants of their face contorting.

“ _Klaaaaauus! Help me! Please, I’m scared!”_

“Oh Christ. I’m so sorry, you should _not_ be seeing that right now.”

TS moved their hand to rest on his shoulder (— _almost like a mini blanket_ , _and wasn’t that fun_ _?_ —), and Jeremy pushed off the side of the ambulance. He reached behind himself to close the heavy metal doors. Not like that would do much to stop the dead. They’d find him. They’d always find him.

“Look, Klaus. I—I know you’re probably not going to listen to me when I say this, but seriously. Please. Please try to take care of yourself.”

“I Will Help Klaus Take Care Of Himself Too!”

“ _Are you just going to stand there? HELP ME! YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!”_

There was a loud banging on the door of the ambulance. Not long before they realized they weren’t beholden to the laws of physics with Klaus around. Not anymore, not now that they were dead.

“Yes, _yes_. _Please_ do that, TS. No drugs for Klaus, doctor’s orders! I just—please. I don’t want to have to pick you up in a body bag. Just. Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Yes Sir! No Drugs For Klaus, Doctor’s Orders!”

Fuck, he was looking forward to not being here. To disconnecting from his body and his mind and this hellscape of a planet and just…floating. No, not floating. He didn’t want to float. The dead floated, sometimes, and he was not—he didn’t want to—there was a weight on his shoulder (— _goingtodiehewasgoingtodi_ —) and he wasn’t dead yet. There was a reason for that.

“I’ll…I’ll do my best.” Klaus tore his eyes away from the ambulance doors to focus on the EMT. “And, um…thanks. Jeremy. Thanks for making sure I didn’t die.”

The EMT paused and fixed Klaus with a stare.

“You rememb—?” He sighed. “Of course, Klaus. As much as I hope it won’t become a recurring thing, I would do so any time. You are worth it, and I am here if you need anything. I’m sure the same goes for TS. We care.”

Oh. That was a lot of emotion. What the fuck was he supposed to do with that? He tried to be nice _one_ time, and this is what he gets? They cared about him—what? Why? And—

“ _KLAUS! YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! IT’S SO DARK IN HERE, I CAN’T SEE_ _ANYMORE, AND I’M_ _SO SCARED! HELP ME! HELP M—”_

Klaus turned away from the ambulance abruptly, pulling away from TS (— _there was nothing on his shoulder_ —). He almost choked under the weight of TS and the EMT’s heavy stares (— _the_ _re were too many things on his shoulders his chest his arms his legs_ —), while Ben just shook his head. Disappointed? Fuck him. Klaus was putting as much distance between himself and the corpse and this idiot who had decided to get invested in Klaus’s well-being as he could.

“Great. Yeah. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“ _DON’T LEAVE ME HERE YOU BASTARD! YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!_ PLEASE _!_ ”

“Guess It’s Time To Go! Good Day, Jeremy!”

The EMT’s mouth hung open for a second before he ran a hand through his hair.

“This whole time. You’ve both known my name this whole ti—y’know what? Sure. This checks.” He sighed again. “Take care of him, TS. I’ll see you two around.”

“Yes, Sir! Can Do! Goodbye!”

TS snapped a salute before following Klaus away from the hospital. They walked for a few minutes in relative silence, the clicking of TS’s joints the only thing audible over the cars roaring along the street next to them. Klaus pointedly avoided looking into the alleys they passed, and he couldn’t—wouldn’t—hear his name being whispered, groaned, screamed from the ones that were slightly less than empty. The cars and the joints. Those were the _only_ sounds.

“We’re Almost There, Old Bean!”

They rounded a corner, and the street became horribly familiar. Oh g-d, was TS trying to take him _there_? It seemed logical that maybe they’d known the address from watching the news as a kid (how old were they?), but why _the fuck_ would they think that a visit home would be in any way good for him? For them? For _anyone_? Klaus stopped.

“TS. Why are we—”

His voice died (ha) in his throat as he turned to face TS. The blocks behind them were _overfl_ _owing_ with dead people. They stood there, thousands of them _at least_ , covering the street and the sidewalk and even hanging off the sides of the buildings. Their clothing was as varied and alien as their appearances, and Klaus couldn’t tell where the horde ended. He could barely see the flashes of blue light where the dead came in contact with the cars on the street there were so many of them so many sets of eyes just _staring_ and _glaring_ at Klaus, dead silent. He shouldn’t be here. Not on this street, and certainly not this sober.

“We Are Finding A Place To Sleep! And Then You Are Sleeping!”

“Why _here_? I’m too sober to be _here_ right now!”

Klaus punctuated his words with a wild wave at the familiar street, and oh g-d there were more ghosts on that side. Only a few of these ones had noticed Klaus, while the rest stared up at a house. Not _the_ house, from what he could tell, but close enough to it. He looked to see how Ben was reacting and—yep. Ben’s mouth hung agape. There were so many of them. Too many. Too much.

“I Am Under Orders To Keep You That Way! ‘No Drugs For Klaus!’”

“No drugs for—fuck, seriously? Do you not see—? No, of course you don’t, okay.” He had to escape, both this g-dawful street and the consequences of his stupid powers, but if TS wouldn’t let him get high…? He felt something sour rise in his throat as his plan took shape. His plan, which was terri—it was fine, it would be fine. He’d made peace with this long ago, and it was really the fault of anyone who got close if they got hurt. Maybe TS would finally come to their senses and clear out. G-d knows why they’d even stuck around this long. Klaus took a deep breath and spoke.

“Okay, TS. Say, instead of drugs, do you want to play a game? I’ve got an idea for one that could be fun!”

TS brightened immediately, and Klaus’s throat started to close up. It was fine. He forced himself to swallow and continued.

“It’d be a bit like hide-and-seek, but on a larger scale and for adults! One of us goes and hides, and then the other comes and tries to find them after a few days. The boundaries of the game could be between here and the hospital or something. It’d be fun!”

Ben turned his focus to Klaus, eyes narrowing. The bastard.

“Klaus, no. Don’t do this.”

“I Don’t Know If We Should Be Playing Such An Active Game While You’re Still Healing! This Sounds Like Jolly Good Fun, Though! Maybe We Can Play After You Get Some Rest!”

Klaus shook his head, ignoring Ben. Christ, they were making this harder. Why did they insist on trying to take care of him?

“No, no it’s fine! What about this: you hide first, and I’ll rest for a few days while you find a good spot?”

“ _Klaus._ Stop this, let them help you—”

“So, what d’you think, TS? Wanna play hide-and-seek?”

TS looked between Klaus and Ben (lucky guess?) and fidgeted with the buttons of their jacket. They looked uncomfortable and—it was fine. It’d be fine, as long as he got away from here. ‘Here’ had too many memories and _far_ too many dead people. More of the ghosts on the familiar street had turned to look at Klaus now. Fuck, he needed to leave. Now.

“Are You Sure That—”

The mass of the dead started shifting. Getting restless, maybe. Their expressions were rapidly transitioning from intense curiosity to something more aggressive. Shit shit _shit_. Why were there so many here?

“Yes! Yes, it’s a great idea, TS, just—I don’t know! _Go pretend to be a mannequin_ or something! I’ll see if I can find you before the end of the week.”

TS immediately straightened and saluted. They didn’t meet Klaus’s eyes. Oh g-d what had he—nope. It was fine. He might’ve just hurt one of the only people in the world he cared about, so what? Old news. He had other priorities right now.

“Yes, Sir! I’ll Hop To It!”

They turned and marched back down the street, oddly stiff even by their standards (why had they called him ‘sir?’). Klaus barely spared a second to watch as they disappeared among the dead before starting off in the direction of the closest dealer he could think of.

“Klaus, what the fuck?”

“Piss off, Ben!”

Ben planted himself in front of Klaus. Joke’s on him, dead brothers are intangible. Klaus walked through the annoying fucker without a pause.

“Klaus, listen to me! You _know_ that was shitty.”

“ _I can’t hear you_!” Klaus covered his ears with his (shaking) hands and sped up. Only a few more blocks left.

“You can still catch up with them! They care about you, Klaus!”

“That’s on them! I-I didn’t ask for them to—to _care_!”

Klaus threw his arms down with enough force that he almost fell into the street. It wasn’t his fault! He needed to not be in his head right now, and TS got in the way of that! He wasn’t _forcing_ them to try to keep him sober, and they were a grown adult, capable of making their own choices! It’d be _fine._

“Doesn’t mean you get to do—whatever you just did! You know that was _wrong_ , you saw how they looked as they were leaving!”

“Well—well, maybe they’ll pick a better person to care about next time!”

“Klaus, no—holy shit.”

“Oh? You’ve _finally_ come to your senses? What’s—oh.”

Ben had stopped, staring into the window of an electronics shop. Boxy televisions were piled on top of each other around a massive sign advertising the shop’s sale of the week. They all flashed the bright red breaking news: ‘SIR REGINALD HARGREEVES IS DEAD.’

Guess they were going home after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand we've hit the start of UA canon! Next chapter should be a lot lighter and will have a perspective switch! 
> 
> As usual, let me know if I missed any tags/cw's and thanks to Spiritfire24 for proofreading! They're pretty awesome. 
> 
> (come say hi to me on tumblr if you want @martian-art13)


	5. Hide And Seek!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TS plays a game!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo new perspective! 
> 
> CW:  
> \- it/its pronouns for TS  
> \- violence (not graphic)  
> \- dehumanization (of TS, but it's a consequence of their hiding place so it's not that bad)

“ _Go pretend to be a mannequin…!”_

Klaus (It Was Quite Informal To Refer To Him By Name, Now That He Was A Commanding Officer! The Soldier Would Have To Ask For His Rank Later.) Had _Clearly_ Never Given A Proper Order Before, And It Showed! He Was Really Quite Bad At This. It Had Been So Vague! He Hadn’t Specified _Anything_ ! The Toy Soldier Had To Spend A Considerable Amount Of Time Reviewing Their Conversation To See If There Was Anything Else—And There Was! It Was A Tad Hidden, But Further Specifications Were There! Wonderful! He’d Given A Vague Location— _“...between here and the hospital...”_ —And Some Estimate For A Time When It Could Expect Follow Up! Fantastic!

It Took No Time At All To Find A Department Store With Mannequins! It Was Trivial To Exchange Its Soldier Uniform For The Uniform Of The Mannequins! (Folding And Storing Its Usual Attire According To Regulation Standards Of Course!) The First Day Had Not Ended By The Time It Had Successfully Infiltrated A Group Of Prominent Mannequins And Began To Pretend! It Was Quite Good At Pretending!

It Waited.

This Version Of Hide-And-Seek Entailed Far Less Shooting Than The Games Played On The Aurora! Even When Not Called For In The Original Rules, Violence Was Always Added In By The End! It Wondered If Klaus Had Found Its Friends? Perhaps—No. Mannequins Didn’t Usually Think Much. It Had Orders. It Promptly Pretended To Stop Thinking.

It Waited.

A Light Was Moving Toward It! Perhaps Klaus Had Finally Found It? The Person Moved The Flashlight And They Were Definitely Not Klaus! They Had A Spiffing Uniform Though! The Soldier Wanted To Compliment Them, But It Remembered In The Nick Of Time That Mannequins Don’t Talk! Silly ~~Toy Soldier~~ Mannequin!

“Dolores…”

It Did Not Know A Dolores! At Least Not Now And Here, On This Planet… Maybe They Were Referring To One Of The Mannequins Behind It!

“It’s good to see you.”

They Aimed The Flashlight Directly Into The Toy’s Face—They Were Not Talking To One Of The Mannequins Behind It! The Lad Looked A Bit Young By Human Standards, But Perhaps They Had Met At Rehab?

“I’ve missed you…obviously.”

It Had Not Missed Them! The Soldier Was Becoming Increasingly Certain They Had Not Met Before. Time Must Have Gone A Smidge Non-Linear Again! They Seemed Like Someone Who Would Potentially Indulge In A Non-Linear Timeline.

“Well, I…it’s been a rough couple of days.”

Oh Dear! A Friend From Its Future’s Past’s Future (Or Was It Future’s Past’s Future-Past? Non-Linear Time Was Fun!) Was Having A Poor Time! Very Unfortunate That The Soldier Was Under Orders To Pretend To Be A Mannequin. It Really Should Get Back To That, But…Just In Case, It Pretended To Know Them And—Oh Lovely, They Were A He! And His Name Matched His Uniform!

Five Tensed At A Clicking From Behind Him.

“NOO!”

He Ducked And Ran For Cover Behind A Nearby Rack Of Clothes As Two New Strangers Opened Fire. There Were So Many Layers In This Game! It Got To Pretend To Not Pretend To Feel Its Torso Separate From Its Legs And One Of Its Arms! It Would Have To Compliment Klaus On Some Jolly Good Complexity In His Version Of Hide-And-Seek Later! Now It Even Had Shooting! Its Top Half Fell Forwards, And It Collected A Few Extra Bullets In Its Back! Maybe It Could Make More Bullet-Teeth! It Certainly Had Enough Bullets And Shotgun Pellets For Them Now! Assuming Klaus Found It, Or It Received Orders To Stop Pretending To Be A Mannequin, Of Course, But That Would Probably Happen Very Soon.

Five Ran Across The Line Of Fire, Pausing Briefly To Grab The Soldier’s Torso And Deposit It In A Better Sheltered Location. He Cradled The Soldier’s Head For A Second Before Resting It Against A Shelf. He Was Being Ever So Kind For A Human Interacting With A Mannequin! The Soldier Hoped It Was Pretending Well Enough…

“I’ll be right back for you.”

It Wasn’t Going Anywhere…Most Mannequins Wouldn’t Move On Their Own! Perhaps Its New Old Friend Would Remember To Grab Its Legs Before They Left. It’d Save The Soldier The Effort Of Pretending To Regrow Them, Once It Was A Soldier Again. Five Ran Off Into The Rows Of Clothes, Followed By Gunshots. It Hoped Five Didn’t Die Yet—He Seemed Friendly! And Bullet Holes Would Ruin The Uniform!

It Waited.

Hm. These Two New Strangers Were Making Quite A Mess Of The Place. And An Awful Ruckus Along With It! Hopefully Klaus Couldn’t Hear Them. Walking In Right Now Would Have _Consequences_ For His Health!

Oh Lovely! Its Past’s Future-Past Future’s Future Friend Was Back! He Really Didn’t Need To Put The Toy Into A Bag, If He Would Just Order It To Walk, But Oh Well! Needing To Be Carried Was In Character For A Mannequin!

It Could No Longer See! There Were More Gunshots And Potentially Some Police Sirens? Ashes Had Ordered It To Tell Any Cops It Encountered To “Fuck Off, You Bastards!” But It Couldn’t While It Was Pretending To Be A Mannequin. Sad! It Greatly Enjoyed Carrying Out That Order. (Their Uniforms Seemed To Be Universally Ugly! Plenty Of Material For Creative Insults.) It Did Its Best To Think The Phrase As Loudly As Possible. Hopefully It Counted!

It Waited.

Five Stopped. (“Five” Really Was Such A Lovely Rank! Very Concise!) The Bag Was Opened And—Oh Joy! The Soldier Could See Again! Five Removed It From The Bag And Propped It Up On A Chair Before Collapsing Onto A Nearby Bed. The Soldier Understood—Being An Officer In Battle Was Properly Tiring! Especially When Your Only Soldier Was Busy Pretending To Be A Mannequin!

After A Moment, He Spoke!

“Logically, yes, I know you’re not the same Dolores who was with me in the apocalypse.”

Which Apocalypse? He Was Really Going To Have To Be More Specific!

“I don’t pick you up for another eight days. But it’s been so long and…I needed a friendly face.”

The Toy Soldier Had Been Told Its Face Was Very Friendly! And People Got Very Creative With Their Compliments! After All, Everyone Knew ‘Creepy’ And ‘Fucking Terrifying’ Were Synonyms For Friendly!

“No, my family doesn’t count.”

What A Shame! It Wasn’t Sure How The Mathematical Abilities Of Five’s Family Were _Relevant_ , But Five Had A Very Official Uniform And Rank In The Single-Digits. That Was Probably Extremely Respectable! Maybe This Was A Briefing For A Rather Complex Order!

“I care about them, yes, but they’re all idiots. I’ve told you all about them. Not yet, for you, I guess. I can tell you all the stories, but first I need to stop the apocalypse. Maybe you could even meet them…that’d be nice. Sure, it’d probably be a shitfest, and they—they wouldn’t _understand_ , but still. Thirty years is a long time to be together without ‘meeting the family.’ Heh. Meeting the family…as if we would ever do something so normal.”

The Soldier Wanted To Say That Normalcy Was For Fools! But It Was Still Pretending To Be A Mannequin, So It Just Smiled.

“You’re right…”

Wow! Could He Read Thoughts? First Klaus’s Dead Brother And Now Telepathy? The People On This Planet Had Lovely Abilities! It Wondered Why Gunpowder Tim Hadn’t Developed Anything Extraordinary Before He Was Mechanized…Maybe Cool Powers Just Weren’t A British Thing? Maybe Tim’s Affinity For Explosions Counted As A Cool Power Where He Grew Up?

“I have work to do! No more resting! For simplicity’s sake, can we pretend that you remember everything from the apocalypse? Great. Okay, so…eight days…just eight days to save these fools…gotta start with the eye…”

It Could Pretend To Remember The Apocalypse! It Had Already Been Pretending To Remember Him, This Wasn’t Even That Much Extra! Piece Of Cake! It Was _Very_ Good At Pretending! He Was Talking Far Too Low For The Soldier To Hear Now, But That Was Okay! That Just Meant It Could Focus On Pretending To Be A Mannequin For Now! It Had Been Thinking Too Much Anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friend of mine keeps trying to convince me that Britain's not real... I *swear* it is, I've been there! They are not convinced.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Your kudos/comments make me so happy so... thanks! Also, while I'm thanking people, massive thanks to Spiritfire24 for catching all my stupid grammar mistakes and doing other extremely important proofreading things!
> 
> (I'm on tumblr @martian-art13 if you want to chat!)

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to let me know if I messed up any portrayals of substance use disorders and treatments or missed any warnings! I did research and based a lot off of Klaus's experiences in the show, but this is not something I have firsthand experience with. That being said, this isn't supposed to be a fic about addiction or recovery from addiction and it's set well before Klaus has any intention of getting sober. I've got a few more chapters of them interacting planned (all the way up to canon!) and some ideas for a series of works beyond that so hopefully some of that will be up soon too!
> 
> Massive thanks to Spiritfire24 for proofreading/betaing and just generally putting up with my spamming them with ideas!!


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